CHAPTER 7
Rodian
The past week and a half has been the busiest of my entire fucking life.
With my family tucked away safely on Mauritius, an island off the coast of Africa, I’ve worked around the clock to establish some sense of order among the men.
Where most have fallen in line, there are a couple of factions that refuse to accept me as pakhan, believing Yegor will return and retake the throne.
Little do they know I handed him over to the Cosa Nostra after we tore apart the operation he had set up at an abandoned prison.
The Cosa Nostra promised to send proof of his death once they’ve finished getting their revenge.
Last I heard from Enzo, the underboss of the Capo dei Capi, they were having fun torturing Yegor.
Rosie, the capo who was held captive at the prison, is recovering, and Tim, the seventeen-year-old hacker who was imprisoned alongside her, is safely back home in Germany.
I gave him enough money to change his life forever, but the kid refuses to take the time to deal with the hell he went through.
Instead, he has decided he’s my personal hacker.
At first, it was amusing, but Tim is the one who uncovered the factions that are plotting to overthrow me. For the time being, he’s keeping tabs on them.
Still, the kid is only seventeen, and I’m not too comfortable with the idea of him getting involved in the Bratva.
Once Rosie is back on her feet, I’ll have access to her exceptional hacking skills. She’s the best in the world, and I made sure that her services were part of the deal with the Cosa Nostra for delivering Yegor to them on a silver platter.
I’ll ask Rosie to talk to Tim, seeing as she’s his idol. Maybe once he’s older I’ll give him the odd job, but for now, I’d like him as far away from danger as possible.
Andrei pulls up to the airfield where the helicopter is waiting so we can fly out to a factory.
I’ve heard a group of men took it upon themselves to hit Yelena Fedorova’s house out in the country and apparently took her and some other family members captive.
I hope the report is wrong because I sure as fuck didn’t authorize the attack on Yegor’s family.
If it’s true, the odds of them still being alive are slim.
It’ll piss me off because it does nothing to restore order to the Bratva and will only incite Yegor’s associates even more.
Especially Sokolov, who’s Yegor’s best friend and the loudest of them all.
As the SUV comes to a stop, my phone rings, and digging the device out of my pocket, I see Atanas’ name. The corner of my mouth lifts as I accept the call from the head of the Bulgarian mafia.
“Volkov.”
“How are things after the showdown at the prison?”
“A little up in the air, but the dust is starting to settle.”
“I’m still in Moscow. Let’s get together,” he demands.
“Sure.” I check the time on my wristwatch. “When?”
“Tonight.”
“Dinner at my place?” I ask, knowing an invitation to my estate will show Atanas I’m fucking serious about building a relationship with him.
His tone sounds a little friendlier when he replies, “I don’t like vegetables. See you at eight.”
Ending the call, I stare at the screen of my phone.
“What was that about?” Andrei asks, pushing his door open.
As we get out of the SUV, I grin at him. “Atanas is coming over for dinner tonight.”
We walk to the eight-seat executive helicopter, and while Andrei takes the space beside me in the middle row, Sergei and two of my best men fill the other seats.
The blades start spinning through the air as we put on the headsets, and I decide to use the twenty-five-minute flight to check in with my five captains, each of whom controls a specific area in Russia.
While Andrei and I handle all international operations to ensure none of the alliances I’ve worked so hard to secure are compromised, the captains oversee Moscow, St. Petersburg, Southern Russia, Siberia, and the Ural Region.
Once I’m sure all the rogue groups who are doing their own goddamn thing and sowing destruction in the name of the Bratva have been dealt with, I’ll give the captains full control of their territories. So for now, my ass has been all over Russia to show the men who’s in charge.
Either they bend the knee, or they’re dead. There’s no in-between.
When the helicopter is set down at the front of the factory, I tuck my phone away and glance at the shithole.
“Blyad?,” Andrei says. “I don’t think this place can be salvaged and turned into a manufacturing plant.”
“Let’s just deal with the men, then we can decide what to do with it,” I mutter as I wait for Sergei and the two guards to get out before Andrei and I follow.
Dressed in combat gear, I blend in with the other four as we walk toward the entrance.
Two men are warming their hands by a fire, giving us curious glances, and the moment the one on the left’s eyes land on me, they go wide as saucers.
“Pakhan!” he shouts loudly, alerting the others.
When I stalk into the dimly lit factory, the acidic stench of piss and death hits my nostrils.
I glance to my right and see three decomposing male heads hanging from hooks on the ceiling, with no sign of their bodies.
“Full alert,” I order Andrei and my guards. “This is going to go sideways real fucking fast.”
A man comes toward me while the rest gather around. He stops a few feet away and gives a respectful nod. “Pakhan.”
Locking eyes with him, my tone is deep with authority as I bark, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Bogdan Ivanov.”
“Ivanov.” My gaze sweeps over the bloodstained floor and severed heads before settling back on him. “Who gave you permission to attack Yegor’s family?”
“No one.” He squares his shoulders. “It needed to be done. The old blood has to be wiped out before the new can take over. As long as Yegor’s family is alive, there will always be men willing to fight for them.”
“You don’t get to decide what needs to be done.” My voice drops to a deadly calm. “I do.”
A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face before it disappears. “They’re all dead,” he says. “Except one.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. “Who?”
For the love of all that’s holy, let it be Yelena.
“Yelena’s daughter,” the dumb fuck answers.
Blyad?! Yelena’s death is going to piss off Yegor’s associates something fierce.
My jaw clenches as I process the fact that they have Yegor’s forgotten granddaughter, who’s just become a valuable chess piece to me.
“The fat bitch can cook.” Ivanov shrugs, then he chuckles sadistically. “We’ve had her prepare our meals while starving her.”
“You thought you could decide who lives and dies without my authorization,” I growl, making the grin drop from his face. “Take me to the woman!”
I have to suppress the urge to kill the stupid motherfucker right here and now as I follow him out the back.
The instant I take in the pile of decomposing bodies lying a hundred feet or so away, his death warrant is signed, but then my eyes land on a woman who’s curled up in the corner of a fucking animal pen.
The blouse, skirt, and makeshift bandage around her left calf are all filthy, and her blond hair is matted.
Just as I glance over the bruises marring her arms and legs, Ivanov unlocks the gate and barks, “Come!”
It takes a moment before she lethargically lifts her head. Gaunt from starvation, with collarbones jutting beneath the filthy blouse, she looks too weak to stand.
Another second passes before I recognize her, and my breath leaves me in a sharp exhale as I stare at Anastasia.
Iisus Khristos!
For five fucking years, I wondered where she disappeared to after she never showed up outside the theater. I searched until every lead went cold, eventually forcing myself to accept I would never see her again.
I fucking mourned her.
The vibrant, curvy woman who stole my heart in a single night is Yegor’s estranged granddaughter, and these fuckers have reduced her to someone I barely recognize.
Rage begins to vibrate deep in my chest, threatening to erupt from me like a volcano spewing lava.
Anastasia looks at me for a moment, then her features crumble, and she whimpers, “You… finally… found me.”
My heart clenches painfully, and something ugly creeps out of the dark depths of my soul. It wants revenge for what was done to the only woman who’s ever been able to capture my attention.
Her head lolls to the side as she struggles to keep her eyes open.
I was angry because the stupid fucks wiped out Yegor’s family, but seeing what they’ve done to Anastasia robs me of every ounce of self-control I possess.
Anastasia
Yesterday Ms. Fedorova was kicked to death, and I watched as they threw her onto the growing pile of bodies.
Afterward, they drank while it took the last of my strength to prepare dinner for them. I was so weak I had to crawl from the kitchen to the pen, which made them all laugh.
Even though there was no love lost between my family and me, witnessing human beings, even cruel ones, being butchered right in front of me destroyed something inside me I thought was unbreakable.
I’ve lost the determination to survive whatever life throws at me.
The sickening stench of death drifts from the decomposing bodies, making my shriveled stomach roll and bile burn the back of my throat, but there’s nothing in me to throw up.
How much will it hurt when they kill me?
My brain shuns the thought and goes to the only safe place there is. As I slip into my memories of the theater and Rodian, I can feel the life draining from my emaciated body with every passing second.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The gate clanks as it’s unlocked, chilling the blood in my veins, then Bogdan barks, “Come!”
Is it already time to make food?
I learned his name a few days ago but still don’t know what any of the other soldiers are called.
My breathing speeds up as I try to get my body to move, but I’m only able to lift my head.
If I can’t get up, they’ll kill me now.
My sight takes a moment to focus, and as I look past Bogdan, I see a vision in black combat clothes.
I always fantasized that Rodian would wear a suit and his hair would be short like the night we met, not tied up in a manbun with strands hanging loose.
He looks wild and dangerous, but happy that I’ll see him in my final seconds, I whimper, “You… finally… found me.”
“Crazy, Svinya! Show respect to the new pakhan,” Bogdan snaps angrily as he comes at me.
New pakhan?
My gaze shifts from Rodian to the other four men, wondering which of them overthrew my grandfather.
Before Bogdan can grab hold of me, Rodian storms forward and wraps his arm around the soldier’s neck, hauling him out of the pen.
Unable to keep my head up, I slump against the rusted rails.
“Boss!” Bogdan shouts as Rodian throws him to the side, and when he climbs to his feet, he seems confused as he asks, “What are you doing?”
Rodian walks right up to Bogdan and looks him dead in the eye, the expression on his face downright murderous. “You acted without my authority.”
The power in his deep voice makes a shiver race over my body, and only then does it click that Rodian is the new pakhan.
NoNoNoNoNo! It can’t be true.
The words echo through my head, refusing to make sense. Pakhan. Rodian. They don’t belong together. One is the title of the most feared man in the Bratva. The other is the man who became my reason to keep breathing for the past five years.
As he punches a shocked Bogdan, the realization shatters every dream I’ve spun around him.
My white knight didn’t come to save me. I stupidly built fantasies around the man who defeated my grandfather and took over the Bratva.
Gunfire erupts, but I don’t even have the strength to flinch, and my eyes never leave Rodian as I watch him beat Bogdan to death on the blood-stained spot where my uncles were massacred.
There’s no elated feeling, just a crushing heartache of losing the one safe place I could retreat to.
Every time things got too hard, I escaped into dreams of Rodian. They were the only thing no one could take from me. Not Mother. Not Grandfather. Not the monsters who dragged me here. Now there’s nowhere left to hide, not even inside my own mind.
The men who barged into Ms. Fedorova's house and took us all captive are nothing more than evil demons, and Rodian is slaughtering them without hesitation.
If this is how the pakhan deals with his own men, I can’t begin to imagine what he’ll do to me.
My blood turns to ice as I realize the men I thought were monsters bow to somebody far worse. It takes a man even more terrifying to command soldiers like them.
A grim fear fills my soul, and by the time Rodian is done killing Bogdan and he climbs to his feet with blood dripping from his fists, it feels like I’m staring at Death himself.
The men who didn’t choose to fight are all kneeling and jerk with fright when Rodian roars something in Russian I don’t understand. They all nod frantically, and rushing to get up, they run to the pile of bodies and begin to drag them farther away.
When Rodian turns his head to look at me, I scrounge my last energy reserves together to press closer into the corner.
His expression is nothing short of brutal as he stalks toward me, and when he crouches, I’m barely able to whimper.
I’m surprised out of my mind when he carefully pushes his arms beneath my body to pick me up. As if I’m nothing more than a feather, he holds me tight, carrying me out of the pen and through the factory.
I begin to shiver uncontrollably, and just as I dare to peek up at his face, he barks, “Get the doctor to wait at the estate for us.”
“On it,” one of the other men replies.
Rodian climbs into a helicopter, his hold of me remaining firm, and when he takes a seat, he adjusts my body on his lap before locking eyes with me.
We stare at each other while the other men get in, and soon the loud sound of the helicopter blades drowns out everything else.
The last thing I’m aware of is his earthy cologne, mixed with the coppery scent of blood.